The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 13: Daughters of Earth and Sons of Flame

The Hall of Clouds buzzed with uneasy movement. Silk runners were being repurposed into ceremonial carpets. Soldiers rearranged benches and tables with the urgency of a fortress under siege, and servants moved in tight, nervous orbits, arms full of red wine, incense trays, and half-prepared blessing scrolls.

But outside, just past the open veranda beneath the flowering eaves of the garden hall, where the sound of the sea wind filtered through pine and plum trees, Suki sat alone on a low stone bench. Her hair had been half-tied for ceremonial dressing, the left side still loose, strands catching against her cheek. She wore a plain green robe, not yet changed into anything formal.

Her eyes had not moved from the horizon in the last hour.

She barely noticed the footsteps approaching, until the scent of lacquered armor and the familiar tension of Kyoshi boots reached her.

“You look like a statue, not a warrior.”

Hinaro stood at the edge of the stone path, arms crossed, lips curled in mock grin. “That, or you’ve gone into some kind of meditation trance.”

Suki didn’t look at her. “Maybe I’m hoping if I stay still long enough, they’ll forget I’m here.”

Hinaro stepped closer and dropped onto the bench beside her without grace, her armor clinking faintly.

“No chance. You’re the prize in this farce. And even if you weren’t, someone like you doesn’t exactly fade into a crowd, Suki.”

Suki turned to her slowly. Her voice was low.

“Everything’s moving too fast. This morning we were rebuilding the shrine. Now we’re about to be married off like bargaining chips.”

Hinaro snorted. “About to? I’m getting chained to some over-educated fire rat who probably organizes his socks by philosophical school.”

Suki blinked. “You mean Lee?”

“Who else?” Hinaro rolled her eyes. “He quoted military etiquette while trying to give me a comb for the ceremony. Said it would ‘elevate the decorum of our union’s presentation.’ I almost used it to stab him.”

Suki gave the faintest ghost of a smile. It didn’t last.

They sat together in silence for a moment, broken only by the far-off sounds of drums being tuned and a wedding arch being hammered into place with less-than-spiritual care.

Then Hinaro leaned in. Her voice dropped.

“Tell me something. Why is the Prince in such a hurry? This isn’t just about consolidation. He could’ve waited. Done it properly. Gave it time to seem like respect, not command.”

Suki shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. Not since the first time they came. Not since… that meeting.”

“You were the one he asked for,” Hinaro said, her voice edged with something sharp and protective. “You think he’s going to demand a private ceremony? Claim you separately from the others?”

Suki didn’t answer.

But she didn’t deny it either.

Then…

“That is not your concern.”

The voice came like an arrow. Cold. Crisp.

They both turned sharply as Lee approached from the side path, his uniform immaculate, his posture stiff as a post. He looked more scholar than soldier, ink-stained fingers, eyes sharp and dry as legal parchment.

“The Prince’s motives are not your subject of discourse,” he said, gaze fixed on Hinaro. “And your departure from my presence was not sanctioned.”

Hinaro scowled. “I’m not your prisoner, bookworm.”

“You are my assigned companion under martial oath,” Lee replied flatly. “You do not walk off without acknowledgment. Especially not to whisper beside her.”

Suki stood slowly. “Lee, it’s fine. She just wanted…”

“No, it is not ‘fine,’ Lady Suki,” Lee said, adjusting the collar of his outer robe. “You are not just any Kyoshi warrior. You are the daughter of Akari. You are the one the Prince personally requested. Your time should be in his presence, not being frittered away in idle chatter that serves no directive.”

“I wasn’t frittering, you bureaucratic vulture,” Hinaro snapped, rising to her feet. “I wanted to talk to her. Alone. Something you clearly haven’t figured out how to be.”

Lee tilted his head slightly. “Whatever communication you wish to perform can be done under my observation. Any sentiment of privacy is subordinate to duty.”

“You listen to yourself speak, ever?” Hinaro muttered. “No wonder the pirates died of boredom.”

Lee didn’t blink. “This is not about me. It is about her.”

He turned to Suki now, and for a moment, the mechanical nature of his speech faltered, just slightly.

“The Prince has not been in a receptive temperament since arriving. He did not rest on his voyage. He has not consulted his aides. And he has issued a sequence of commands with no prior briefing. This behavior, historically, denotes instability. It would be prudent of you to present yourself to him soon. Before your absence is interpreted as defiance.”

Suki exhaled slowly. “You think he’ll take offense?”

“I think,” Lee said carefully, “that Prince Zuko is no longer the boy I remember. And that if he considers you his, then he will interpret silence as refusal. And refusal…”

“...will be punished,” Hinaro finished for him, stepping between Lee and Suki. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve all seen the new Crown Prince stomp around like a god. Doesn’t mean I have to play shrine maiden to his ego.”

Lee’s voice sharpened. “Mockery is unbecoming of your rank.”

“And blind obedience is unbecoming of your brain,” she snapped back.

He stepped forward, very slightly. “Everything about this arrangement hinges on structure. Defy it, and you defy the architecture of survival we’ve been granted. That is not just foolish. It is lethal. Do not test the patience of a man who can burn this whole island to the ground in the matter of mere minutes.”

Hinaro looked at him, really looked, her fury simmering. Then she laughed, bitter and breathless.

“You’re not a man. You’re a ledger.”

Lee’s jaw twitched.

Suki laid a hand gently on Hinaro’s arm. “That’s enough.”

They both stopped. For a moment, the three stood frozen under the shadow of the blossoming eaves, birds silent in the trees.

Suki turned to Lee. “I’ll speak to the Prince. When I’m ready.”

Lee didn’t nod. Didn’t scowl. Just stared.

“Then be ready soon,” he said, adjusting his cuffs. “He does not wait.”

He turned and walked away, cloak catching on the wind like a page turning violently.

As his footsteps vanished down the garden path, Hinaro exhaled like she’d been holding it for hours.

“Remind me to poison his tea at our wedding.”

Suki didn’t laugh. Her eyes were on the direction Lee had gone.

“Do you think he’s right?”

“About Zuko?” Hinaro said. “I think he might be.”

Suki looked down at her hands. Calloused. Steady. Strong.

But they were shaking.

---

The Hall of Clouds had been stripped of celebration and repurposed into something quieter, tighter. The wedding arch had been erected near the back, just in front of a lacquered mural of Kyoshi herself, towering in green robes with fans crossed. Ritual drums had been silenced for the moment, their players dismissed to the edges.

Amidst the rustle of robes and the scent of burning cedar, Zuko stood beside the central pillar, the firelight casting long shadows across his face. His cloak had been exchanged for his field jacket, black and red with deep golden seams. His crown circlet had been set aside. He no longer looked like a prince playing diplomat.

He looked like a commander preparing to move.

“Commander Jee. Warrant Officer Kujan. Ensign Lee. Sergeants Barun and Ren.”

Zuko’s voice rang out, clear, firm, utterly unreadable.

The five men approached from the far side of the hall, dressed in semi-formal tunics and sashes, each with their rank displayed on the shoulder. They stood in a straight line before him, forming an unbroken row of red in a sea of green banners.

Zuko regarded them a moment. Then spoke.

“You are here because you were chosen. Not by Kyoshi. Not by her elders. Not by ritual. By me.”

None dared speak. Even Kujan didn’t smirk this time.

“These marriages are rewards. They are not punishments. They are… assignments. Extensions of my trust. This island was nearly erased. And now it will be rebuilt. By fire and will. Each of you will take a partner from this land, not for pleasure, not for conquest, but to anchor it.”

He paced once in front of them, slow and controlled.

“Tonight, once the ceremonies are complete, I depart. There will be no banquet. No formal speeches. No dancing.” His tone dropped. “I do not have time for dances.”

Kujan shifted uncomfortably.

Zuko turned to Jee first. “You will be in charge of the Kyoshi base in my absence. Civil, military, and foreign affairs. You answer to no one except direct command from my seal or voice.”

Jee bowed his head, firm. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Zuko nodded. “Keep the supply chains discreet. I want surplus quietly redirected here to Tutanaki and North Ember. Do not request from the Capital. Nan-Hai will be a place I won’t be able to move freely.”

Jee’s jaw flexed slightly. “Understood.”

Zuko turned to the group as a whole again. “In two weeks’ time, on the Winter Solstice, I will return. Before then, this island must be functioning. Civil order, training rosters, infrastructure repairs underway. Any rebellion, any riot, and I will treat it as betrayal.”

None of the men flinched. Even Barun and Ren, seasoned veterans who usually carried themselves with casual dismissal, now stood with ironed backs and narrowed eyes.

Zuko’s gaze drifted to Lee, who stood last in the line.

“You,” he said, voice lowering. “You’ll be coming with me.”

Lee’s posture shifted. Barely. “To… Tutannaki, I presume?”

Zuko didn’t answer.

Lee hesitated. “If I may, Your Highness, Hinaro has displayed unpredictable behavioral patterns. She challenges hierarchy openly. She has little respect for rank or system. Living her here alone would be. She is…”

Zuko tilted his head slightly.

Just stared at him.

Lee went silent.

His words caught in his throat, swallowed under the weight of the Crown Prince’s silence.

Then, slowly, Lee spoke again, this time quieter.

“…In retrospect, what you’re saying is that if I am to accompany you… my wife will be doing so as well.”

There was a pause.

Then Kujan burst out laughing. Loud, sharp, undignified. He slapped Barun’s shoulder.

“Oh spirits, he called her his wife!”

Barun snorted. “Hope you’re good at dodging dinner knives, Lee.”

Ren crossed his arms, his low voice amused. “I give it three days before she commandeers his bunk and throws his books out the porthole.”

Even Jee cracked a dry grin. “Make sure she doesn’t break your glasses, Ensign.”

Lee blinked. “I… do not wear glasses.”

Kujan howled louder. “You will when she’s done with you.”

Zuko let the laughter settle, his expression unmoving.

Then, at last, he spoke again.

“She is a wild card.”

The room sobered slightly.

“She is also fiercely loyal. And intelligent in her own way. And above all, she is Kyoshi-born. If I return here without her having seen the world I’m shaping, she will remain a thorn.”

He turned to Lee again.

“I need more than just obedience in the south. I need someone I trust who can challenge me… when it matters. Someone other than Rin. And for that… I need you.”

Lee’s posture stiffened.

“And that means you bring your wife.”

The weight of those words landed differently now. Not as a threat. Not as a joke. But as a binding reality.

Lee lowered his head.

“I understand, Your Highness. I will ensure that her presence is accounted for and integrated into mission protocol.”

Kujan coughed. “Translation: ‘I’ll keep her from killing me in my sleep.’”

Barun laughed again.

Ren smirked. “Or maybe she’ll kill for him instead.”

Zuko turned and walked back toward the flame pedestal at the head of the room. His cloak flared slightly with the motion.

“When you swear your vows tonight,” he said, not looking back, “you’re not just swearing them to each other. You’re swearing to me. To this new world I’m building.”

He stopped beside the fire basin and let the silence draw long.

“Do not fail your wives.”

His voice dropped.

“Because if you do… you’ve already failed me.”

[A/N: Read 15 to 20 chapters ahead available right now on .com/saiyanprincenovels.com.]